Angsty WoC // ISSUE 2

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When I was younger, I rarely looked in the mirror. So whilst I knew I had; black skin, thick black hair, thick lips, palms that were lighter than the back of my hand and skin that would change colour depending on whether or not I moisturised that day, I never thought much of it. I truly felt just as ordinary and beautiful as any other girl, until the significance of my skin colour began to settle in.

After that, I spent a lot of time wondering whether or not I would be prettier if I had lighter skin, I never thought about bleaching but I started to understand the mindset of someone who resorts to it. I thought that if I had a slimmer nose then maybe I wouldn’t feel so ugly. There were even times where I would think that I would look so much better if only my mother had married a white man, because I felt that being mixed was the way to move closer to the I spent my childhood and my early beauty standards.

I avoided teens in environments where I was mirrors like the plague and would often the only black girl. From often think about how dark the the outside looking in, I felt no lighting made my skin before I different. I was born confident even considering opening my camera about myself as a black female, to take a selfie. I would tell and my skin colour was a part of myself that the only thing people me but I didn’t see it as all of ever saw about me was my dark me. But for everyone else, I stood skin, and they saw it more than I out clearer than day. My gravity did so how could they ever look defying hair was thick, dry, soft beneath the surface I so hated? If and couldn’t really be contained. a friend suggested a guy might My nose was wider than theirs and like me, I would shake my head it didn’t slopes gently. My lips violently and say no. I just were bigger; and of course, my refused to believe that someone skin was much darker than theirs. could find me beautiful because of In year 6, a white boy from my my skin colour. I wore layers not class rejected me. He told me, ‘I to cover my body up from others, only date white girls. Sorry’. 10 but to cover up my body from year old Khama was numb to the myself. Because I put myself down whole thing and I buried the so much. I grew introverted and memory deep. But that seed that I hated socialising because I felt buried deep, grew into a tree of worthless and I didn’t feel good self-hatred, doubt and insecurity. enough for anything.

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But I started to understand that my face is my face. I cannot change the physical structure of my face and more importantly, I wasn’t put on this Earth to be looked at or judged by others. I’m a person who feels self-conscious when I express my individuality, but I feel more uncomfortable when I suppress my identity by trying to be someone who I am not. For me, it was a struggle against my own feelings of inferiority but I have never been a conformist.

I started to surround myself with more inspirational black figures in the media like Amandla Stenberg, Lupita Nyong’o, Viola Davis, Michelle Obama and Maya Angelou, to name a few. It was, however, when I discovered the world of slam poetry on YouTube and went through every black female performance that I had finally found people I could relate to. All these women were saying no to the voices that screamed conform, even their natural hair defied convention, as well as gravity of course. These black women spoke with a fiery confidence and stood their ground as they spoke against their treatment in society. I fell in love with how artistic their words were and I felt what they felt. I stopped trying to be a smaller version of myself and I began to embrace my identity and the things I love.

I started to wear the clothes that I wanted and I stopped comparing myself to something I could never be. I started to appreciate my skin, I began to love the way the deep brown glows in the sun. I began to appreciate my larger lips, and no not because Kylie Jenner suddenly made big lips ‘a thing’ now. And now, my bold wide nose is my favourite facial feature.I am tired of expecting external validation to feel as if I’m worth something. I’m tired of feeling like I sit at the bottom of the social ladder because I am a black woman. I have decided that I’m not going to waste my life putting myself in the corner and pushing myself to the back of the line. I have decided that if someone chooses not to like me because of the colour of my skin then I need to remove myself from their company, because I was born black and I’m going to die black too.

I became so immersed in a media that was predominantly white and whitewashed, that my beauty standards were heavily influenced and what was white became synonymous with beauty. Now I am beginning to immerse myself in my culture and I feel a sense of pride that no one can take away.

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I had to internally struggle with such low self-esteem for such a long time but I had to understand that the best feeling is rising above people’s expectations of you. I had to rise above my own expectations first, but I found this empowering beauty in being an unapologetic, unique and confident black woman that made me realise that my validation is all that should matter.

In the words of Maya Angelou; “You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.”

“Always remember that when you are a black girl, every day that you exist in your body without apologising is activism.” - How To Survive Being a Black Girl by Raven Taylor.

By Khama Gunde

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You’re probably wondering : why the hell is there so much tape in this fricking magazine, or maybe ; how do I change the world and better myself ? Well, you’ve come to the right article.

There isn’t a perfect guide, set of rules or a WikiHow that can help you better yourself or the world. To do that, you need to use your initiative. Stop relying on others to educate and inform you, take time out of your day to find things out, don’t be reluctant to be vocal about issues that you're passionate about; whether it’s veganism, womanism, and everything in between, the world isn’t going to change in silence, so speak up !

Use the arts as a median to project your passions and concerns, social media is a great platform to talk about current world

and political affairs. In bettering the environment you live in ; whether you influence one person or a hundred, you’re consequently bettering yourself. That doesn’t mean you’re going to become conventionally attractive (not that you aren’t already), grow another 4 inches and get a thousand followers on Instagram .

You’re bettering yourself on the inside.

When you do good deeds, you feel a lot better and at peace with yourself,and your more adamant to improve society. It’s a cycle, help the world and you help yourself.

So what are you waiting for ?

Make it happen.

By Sharon Anatole

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“In a world that feeds off self hate, loving yourself is an act of rebellion”.

I grew up in quite a notorious part of town; rebellious teens loitering around the council estates, smoking away their troubles and childlike reverie, welfare queens perched on the front lawn, druglords discussing ‘business’ by the stairwells.

“You’re black, you're not supposed to be smart, you're supposed to sell drugs on the street like the rest of them.”

That stuck in my head for most of my adolescence, it swam in my channel of thought , day in, day out. Maybe I was destined for this, I thought, maybe this is exactly how my life is supposed to end up.

I was different ; I spent most of my days drawing, writing and reading books until sunset. I enjoyed learning, and the one thing on my mind was escape from the toxic place I onced called home barricading me from achieving my full potential. I avoided contact with my scandalous neighbours; after school I’d always run home to avoid trouble and corruption upon my ​unworldly​ mind. I was finally away from all the chaos lurking around me, safe in my own little world.

I began hating myself because I didn't think the same as everyone else. The stood out like a sore thumb, my refusal to conform to the toxic stereotypes many black folks were expected to abide to clearly shone through my face. My teachers knew of my potential, but refused to help me better myself because they'd already selected my future too.

It began to daunt on me that i was different. My neighbourhood was like a factory for infamous criminals and trouble. All the other kids had told me there was something wrong with me: that I wasn’t supposed to be smart, that I wasn't meant to be different , I was supposed to be like them. They all knew the cyclical pattern that dawned on us ;they all knew they were going to end up exactly like everyone else.

It took me almost 5 years to finally realise there is no fault in being black, that I wasn't an error, I was revolutionary. I wanted all black folk to know that they didn't have to be who society expected them to be. I grew out the mindset that I was destined for a path of unease and sleepless nights. I finally uttered the unspeakable; “I am black, and I’m beautiful.”

Anonymous

Black people had a certain stigma attached to them, that we were the ringleaders of this charade, the partakers in this monstrosity. I didn’t fit in that mould,and neither did most of the black folks I knew, but that was what the world saw us as, and some conformed to the hateful social construct.

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Contributor Angelica Kanu interviews a reader about their experiences, recollections and transition into self love.

Have there been any times in your life where you've felt ashamed of yourself and who you are?

She told me firmly that I couldn't do anything about my features and the way I looked. I felt discouraged but she began to Throughout my childhood, I always compare my insecurities to hated my lips. They were larger beautiful things; my skin to dark than everybody else's and I was chocolate, my hair to candy floss. often teased because of them. I This completely changed my outlook was conscious about my African of myself. After that, I looked in traits. Being Nigerian meant that the mirror and saw beauty. I felt my hair was short and frizzy, my at peace, like myself. I am in skin was very dark and my nose was love with every single part of me wider. My name is also very and I often laugh when I think complex and considered unusual in about how ashamed I was before. the Western world so people often shortened it. These made me very What would you say to other young insecure when I was a child. people who feel this way towards their appearance?

How did these insecurities affect you as a person?

You are beyond beautiful. God has made each and every one of our My confidence was very low and I features beautiful. You may feel always begged my mother to embarrassed or self-conscious but straighten my hair so it could be I assure you that you are perfect. similar to my fellow white peers. Sounds a bit clichĂŠ but I am I remember how I always used to positively sure. Talk to someone google "How to make your lips about the way you feel, look in thinner" and "How to make your the mirror and feel proud. You are gums pink". These all seem silly you and you are precious. now yet back then I was determined to eliminate my Nigerian features.

I was shy and often missed out on simasays.tumblr.com opportunities because of my insecurities.

At what point did you begin to love yourself and your appearance?

When I was around thirteen, I was at my lowest point and cried onto my mother about how I was feeling.

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1.

This is probably the hardest thing to remember , especially as people of colour, as the media amplifies and epitomes white beauty standards that we are all expected to abide to. Many races are only glorified and acknowledged if they meet the benchmark of eurocentric features. Well to hell with the system because you’re beautiful. Wide noses, larger lips, monolids , dark skin, kinky hair, thick thighs, monobrows, armpit hair are all beautiful.

You don’t have to conform to society's harsh and unachievable ideals. It takes time to rid yourself of the mindset that you aren’t beautiful because you look a certain way, but rocky roads always lead to beautiful destinations.

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Originality if your strongest asset. Embracing your flaws takes courage and patience, it also allows for your true colours to take flight, showing the world you’re a badass bitch and nothing is going to bring you down. An original is always better than a copy so use that to your advantage and slay.

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No matter what problem you’re faced with, it’s not the end. You’re going to be okay. Your situation might be tough, unbearable or just pestering but whichever the situation, they’ll always be a solution. Just sit tight, and all will be a okay.

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It’s a pretty cliche, but you’re haters tend to be self hating , bitter people who are envious of what you have; whether it be your charisma , humour or intelligence, but regardless, everybody has haters , they're an inevitable virus that pester us throughout our lives.

You’re probably a hater too, even if you're an insy winsy little one, it still counts , but we don't judge, and if you are, it’s okay, once you slowly start to come to peace with yourself, you’ll come to peace with those around you.

5.

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Just breathe.

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I​ remember hating my eyes, they were just too big and their colour too plain. I remember googling 'ways to change your eye colour' and discovering the only options I had were laser eye surgery which was at the time still being developed (eww, scary) and coloured contacts (cool! But I'm a tween with nothing but a penny jar to my name. Urgh! Life sucks).

I remember being so happy the day I caught myself in good lighting and realised that my eyes were actually dark brown not black.

Yes!!! Anything, but black!

Truthfully, I have not yet found a way to 'love' myself. In fact I'm still coming to terms with what it means. I notice when I made an association with something in me that I disliked and something in society that was accepted and praised I became okay with the thing I disliked.

Over the years I think I've just found ways to deal with it and acquired an attitude whereby I neither think I'm pretty or ugly.

Good or bad. This or that.

If I were asked to give tips on how to love oneself I'd struggle because I myself am an amateur but I remember being expectant of the I believe that we each have power, day the birth mark on the side of to some extent through our eyes. my face would shrink and disappear What we see we largely can control like I was told it would. It never but how it affects us not as much. did so eventually, I got over it Therefore if we take care what we telling myself and convincing see and absorb, the effect it has others it was the map of Africa on us is less negative and thus (even though it doesn't but hey, the process of loving ourselves we were kids what did we know becomes a little easier. Right? about geography...) which made it seem cool and me fascinating.

By Esosa Noruwa Ahh, I remember! I used to stand in front of the mirror looking for a way to purse my lips together to try and make them seem smaller and thinner than they actually were.

Eventually, I got over that too after watching Bratz the movie and cooly laughing it off in conversations saying 'haha I have Bratz sized lips!' with a cheeky grin.

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there will be days, when you wake up and hate everything you see in the mirror - the broken windows, the locked doors, the peeling paint, the blood-stained floors. it seems that no matter the lighting, no matter the angle, you still despise the composition of flaws before you. on these days, there may be a constant blur of purples, blues, and reds that haunt your every move. the space, you were never enough to fill, waiting to swallow you whole. waves of thoughts and nausea trying to drown your self-esteem.

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dear lover​, every morning, you peer into me with sad eyes and a broken smile. i watch you tear yourself apart as you brush your teeth and get dressed. i see your eyes narrow and your forehead wrinkle as your mind pinpoints all your ‘flaws.’ when this happens, i want to grab you by the shoulders and scream. because those ‘unflattering freckles’ scattered along your cheeks, are birds flying home during sunset. and that ‘ugly, little birthmark’ on your ribs, is a calculated paint stroke from the gods. and your ‘non-existent thigh gap and large waist,’ are the dreams of that cute boy in your science class. i want to grab you by the shoulders and whisper, sweetheart, i'll never understand how you don't see how terribly beautiful you are.

- ​a love letter from your mirro​r

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on these days, there may be a constant blur of purples, blues, and reds that haunt your every move. the space, you were never enough to fill, waiting to swallow you whole. waves of thoughts and nausea trying to drown your self-esteem. fire dancing between the cracks of your being, waiting to burn you from the inside out. on these days, you may do more surviving than living. but remember, mirrors are just glass. and this is the only home that you will ever truly own. don't let it crumble to the ground.

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your face is a blank canvas and each mark is a story worth telling. that little scar on the underside of your chin is permanent proof that when you were seven, you were dared to bike down that massive hill by your house. and, you didn't back down. that peach colored beauty mark on the side of your nose appeared in the seventh grade, the year you began rejecting compliments. it was a direct reminder from the gods to stop worrying because you are beautiful. those acne scars on your forehead are the unintended side effects of the special conditioner you used when you were fifteen and decided to dye your hair purple for the fun of it. your freckles, the ones scattered across your cheeks, are a reminder of sun-kissed days spent at the park swinging with friends. once, you spent hours connecting them into constellations and turning them into a roadmap to the sky. your wrinkles, the ones around your eyes and mouth, are rich emotions etched into your skin. worry lines from late nights studying for midterms and finals (which you aced). and smile lines from laughing so hard, you felt like you were going to puke. darling, please don't be upset with your ‘flaws’. they're merely proof that you have lived.

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It had to be a dream, this scene before her. An image created by her mind. The day was full of dreams, the atmosphere charged with passion. For something different, something better.

They walked a group of young girls, their skin no longer a mark of hatred. They walk, run, move in freedom; a lightweight, a free spirit.

They smile and she looks on, the image a wonderful distortion from what reality threw at their faces.

The two boys stood near the corner, the skin contrasting like the night and day. In perfect harmony and showcasing constellations. Lips against lips, hips against hips; body electric. They hadn’t been allowed in actuality, that was the thrill of it all of this. The refreshing chill down her spine as she watched the two lovers ignite. Thrill of a love suppressed by the invisible hands of those who ‘know best’. Their love was a love like no other, yet the same as everyone else.

It was beautiful, this mirage world.

What caught her eye was a woman walking down a path of thorns.

Scratched and marred was the smooth skin of the feet that carried it all. Her smile was bright; her choice to stand strong was her strength.

Her headscarf illuminated, a beacon of hope never snuffed out. Of change that began with the few and will end with us all. The freedom of right gave her power to reach the other side.

It was beautiful, this bittersweet reverie.

Reality ripped her abstract creation, crushed hope burned the pages but society.

Society showed her the ashes.

And still the waves of oppression roll in…

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We live in a generation where mental health issues are so romanticised they seem to have become desirable. It's the uncomfortable truth. Mental health issues are real, and they ruin lives. It's a fact. I am well and truly fed up of seeing a generation of people become more and more open to the idea that having a panic attack is hella cute, that if you don't sleep well one night then you're an insomniac, which means you're some kind of a genius and that eating disorders are tragically beautiful, because they're not. There is nothing 'cute' about a guy or a girl crying alone in their bathroom because they think they don't deserve to live.

There is nothing 'cute' about someone hurting themselves because they feel like they deserve it.

Depression is NOT a trend it is a mental illness.

Depression is NOT when you feel sad because you missed your fave TV show it's much more deeper physically, emotionally and intellectually. Self - harm is not beautiful ! Suicide is not poetic ! Anxiety is not adorable ! Do not plant into young teenager's heads that having a mental illness is essential for you to be cool and for you to fit in to the standards of society.

There is nothing 'cute' about mental illnesses so stop advertising them like they are made out to be.

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We live in a world of disparity and imbalance, the incessant killing of what is let of humanity. We have become senseless, blind to the unabating cruelty of mankind. But some us were gifted with rose tinted shades , the world unable to main the chosen ones.

The ancient egyptians categorised their civilians into sections : peasants , artisans , scribes , priest, government officials and then the pharaoh ruling over. It was an established fact that the pharaohs were crafted by the Gods themselves, sent down to dictate the cast below. They were the Chosens ones with privileges galore. At the back of outdated minds, the rose tinted glasses and abundance of privilege were passed down the ages ,to cis, straight, white males. so , what does that make the rest of us who don’t fit in the the club of elites ? Today I’ll be discussing how several factors affect how much privilege we get.

Did you know ?

- Young black men/boys aged 15-19 are 21 more times likely to get shot by the police than young white males of the same demographic - “Ethnic sounding” names on job applications are ten times more likely to get passed down than more mainstream names - White students in school/colleges are 68 times more likely to receive a more lenient punishment , and in some cases no punishment at all for the same offences committed by PoC - White people are overrepresented in Hollywood (making 78% of the actors), higher education, government positions and higher ranking jobs - White people can attend work/school without their hair texture and style being a subject to dress code policies

Skin Colour Skin colour often dictates our fate, the more melanated you are , the harder it is for you to integrate into society, and the less privilege you receive. Discrimination against people of colour was thought to have originated during colonialism and slavery, many centuries before you were often segregated or identified by your religion and race was not held against you.

These are only several statistics illustrating the overwhelming abundance of privilege upheld by those with fair skin . The following statistics also prove that white people are exempt from institutionalised and systematic racism ; as these facts are contrary to the definition of racism and the perpetrators. It is up to you on whether you chose to ignore it or not.

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Gender Gender is believed to be a social construct, made to barricade women from their true potential , and toxicate men with hypermasculinity, desensitizing them, consequently degrading traits commonly found in women, exaggerating those found in men.

- The sapphire caricature portrays black women as being ‘rude, loud, malicious, stubborn and overbearing .

This portrayal was popularized by many media outlets. White women were often depicted as gentle , warm hearted, elegant, and the epitome of beauty standards’ . This issue intertwines both race and gender, doubling the stacks held against you.

- The fundamental inequality between men and women in society , is that all women can have their reproduction and body regulated by the state and should always be sexually available for men regardless.

- Black and minority ethnic (BME) and migrant women experience a disproportionate rate of domestic homicide.

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Up to 3 million women and girls across the UK experience rape, domestic violence, stalking, or other violence each year.

Both genders to

some degree experience the cruelty of gender equality,

however, women are faced with almost triple the backlash, thus receiving less liberty and rights than our counterparts.

The LGBT community In the 21st century, it still considered that the establishment of the LGBTQ community is an atrocity, an “act against God”. People are still being massacred , harassed and shamed for loving you they want to love. ● A quarter (26 per cent) of lesbian, gay and bi people alter their behaviour to hide their sexual orientation to avoid being the victim of a hate crime ● 38 per cent of trans people have experienced physical intimidation and threats and 81 per cent have experienced silent harassment (e.g. being stared at/whispered about) ● Since 1990, 40 countries have decriminalised homosexuality and over 30 have outlawed homophobic hate crimes. As of 2015, over 60 countries legally protect LGBT people at work and 15 recognise same-sex marriage ● Sex with someone of the same sex is illegal in 72 countries, and punishable by death in ten. That means 40 per cent of the world's population live in countries where gay, lesbian and bisexual people can be imprisoned, just for ● being themselves.

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Even if our attitudes to the LGBTQ+ community have become more lenient, whenever people's identity are being made known, many non-straight people are being made out to being overly dramatic, attracting attention, and ‘taking over’ what is still a dominant heteronormative society.

Being part of such a community is a large part of people's identities , and you should be allowed to embrace it, whether or not you chose to conform the general idea of what being LGBTQ+ is all about.

Whenever people accuse you of being ‘racist’ , ‘sexist’ or ‘homophobic’, for dismissing your place in the spectrum, do not brush it off, especially if you are in a position of power to vocalise and bring light to the situation. Privilege, as biased as it may seem, can be used for the greater good of world, Pharaohs, though extremely warped in power and high status, did use their some of their privilege to bring awareness and a sense of security to their people. We are generation Z , millennials on the move are not an elite , exclusive group of pretentious teens , but all of us need to examine our eligibility for privilege and use it to change the world faster than we think.

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This issue will soon be available for purchase on (check our instagram for updates) :​ angstywoc.tictail.com Social Media:IG: ​@angstywoczine SUBMISSION GUIDELINES: - Email your submissions to ​angstywoc@gmail.com​.

- Submissions must be a minimum of one A4 page - No plagiarist, offensive or fraudulent submissions will be accepted - Be sure to mention your full name, age, and consent for using your submission in our zine.

- Art, photography, poetry and any written pieces i.e, articles, reviews, stories etc are perfectly acceptable , and (ideally, however not necessarily) should be centralised around the theme of the issue which will be revealed on our Instagram page.

- We might not be able to accept all submissions, however, we will try our best to.

- We will not accept submissions that have already been published online via social media etc - If you’re mentioning or including anyone else's name/work, make sure you have their sole permission as we will not be held accountable if things go wrong !

- If you want to become part of the Angsty WoC team, or as a frequent submitter, be sure to email ​shazzieanatole@gmail.com​ for an application form!

- Most importantly , have fun when creating work that you want to be featured in our magazine, as it’ll show in your submissions, it’ll attract more people if it’s more interesting and captivating

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